The Cost
by morecolorfulmoniker
Summary: Killian needs help to get dressed because somebody hid his hook, and only Emma is available to help him.


**Special thanks to goddess-of-imaginaryland on Tumblr for the prompt!**

"Oh, I didn't know you were…sorry, I'll just come back later."

Emma stumbled backwards through the open cabin door and out into the hallway, silently cursing herself for showing up unannounced. Usually it was Killian who conveniently appeared in the sheriff's station with a cup of coffee in the morning or sat firmly planted in Emma's usual booth around lunch and dinner. But on this particular morning, when she actually needed him, he was nowhere to be found.

"Swan, wait," he called out just as she started to climb the stairs up to the deck.

She turned and shuffled slowly back down the hall, the mental image of just a moment before still filling her thoughts. _Don't stare, don't stare, don't stare…._

Her mantra failed the second that she set foot in the doorway again, though this time she found herself gazing into a familiar pair of striking blue eyes rather than a bare, muscular back. She'd always wondered what lay beneath the few buttons of Hook's shirt and vest that remained closed, though she never would have admitted to it. But what she found was certainly more than she expected and was enough to steal her breath for a moment.

He had muscles, sure. What she didn't know was when he found the time to stay so toned, what with all of the time he spent hanging around her, often discovering and devouring new food at Granny's with the same excitement Henry had when David let him mess with the sirens on the deputy car. But then again, she noticed that he didn't seem to sleep much at all, made apparent by the number of times she'd been called out to deal with random drunk and disorderly patrons at The Rabbit Hole only to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye, concealed by the shadows in a corner booth. Other nights, as she patrolled the streets, she'd spot him walking out near the docks or notice his silhouette on the deck of the Jolly. As many times as she wanted to stop, she could never bring herself to actually do it.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she took another quick glance down at his chest, reassuring herself that what she'd seen upon first look was actually still there and not just some figment of her imagination. Scars. They were small, thin, and faded, but on his porcelain skin, they stood out as obviously as the sun in a cloudless sky.

"I should be the one to apologize, Love. Normally, I'd be…presentable…but I've spent most of the morning searching with no success," Killian said as she lifted her eyes back up to meet his and found a new emotion there that was unfamiliar to her…at least on him. Embarrassment. Confused at what the hell he was talking about and a bit uneasy at seeing the most confident person she knew so affected by…something, it was in that moment that she noticed another bit of bare skin that she'd never seen.

"Someone stole your hook?" she asked, suddenly understanding his embarrassment. He must have thought that was why she was staring.

"Perhaps. I was at The Rabbit Hole last night and was going to search there, but…" he trailed off as a light shade of red crept into his cheeks and the tiniest of smiles tugged at his lips.

"But what?"

"I had a minor disagreement with my shirt," he said, reaching down and picking up the shredded remains of his black shirt.

"What the hell did you do, maul it with a sword?" Emma asked as a piece of the black fabric fell loose and hit the floor.

"Aye," Killian answered with a straight face before he burst into a fit of loud laughter, followed shortly by Emma. There was no controlling it as the heavy emotions of the moment before were suddenly lost in the music of their laughter. When they finally recovered, Emma stepped over to the door to what she could only assume was the closet, realizing once open that black was more a preference than a necessity in the captain's wardrobe. He had a collection of shirts in various colors, from navy blue to dark purple to red. She quickly opted for the red, interested to see how a little color might look on him.

"Mind if I help?" she asked as he stayed silent for a moment, his eyes filled with mixed emotion. "Or you can walk around Storybrooke without a shirt on. Your choice," she added teasingly.

"My handsome face is temptation enough for you, Love. You couldn't handle it," he answered, that mischievous gleam that she'd actually missed suddenly back in his eyes.

"Maybe you're right," she replied honestly, watching him freeze, eyes wide with momentary shock. Without saying another word, she handed him the shirt, waiting until he pulled his arms into the sleeves. As she secured the bottom button, she spotted the scars again. Reaching out with a trembling hand, she traced her fingers lightly over one of them, down by his hip. Moving up to fasten the next button, she traced another, a zigzag pattern over his ribs.

"Being captain of the most fearsome and respected pirate vessel in all the realms comes at a cost," he said softly, shivering at her touch.

When she reached the final button or at least the last of those she remembered him buttoning on a regular basis, she reached over to his arm, waiting for him to stop her. But he didn't. He inhaled sharply when her skin came in contact with his, but he made no attempt to move away as he let the breath out slowly. She tried to imagine when there was a hand there…and then suddenly the moment when it wasn't. She thought he must have been lucky it was just his hand and not his life that Rumplestiltskin took from him, but then she remembered that there had been a higher cost he'd been forced to pay then, too.

"You've lost so much," she whispered as she started to pull her hand back, but he caught her by the wrist, running his own hand up the back of her arm and back down as she shivered.

"And yet, I've found far more than I deserve." He leaned in closer, his breath warm on her cheek, before she suddenly turned to retrieve his leather vest from where it lay on the bed. He pulled it on without a word, eyes locked on her as she fastened it snug against his chest and tugged gently on it to pull him even closer, where each breath they exhaled mingled in the little bit of space between them.

"It's a…um, warm…day," she fumbled with each word, still staring down at each of the buttons and clasps in his clothing. "But if you still want your jacket, I can—" she started before he suddenly tilted her chin up so that she met his smoldering gaze again.

"Thank you, Emma," he breathed. She reached out for his hand, fitting her fingers into the spaces between his.

"I see you…for exactly who you are. Even when you think no one sees you, I do," she assured him, unsure of why she'd said it but knowing the second it left her lips that it was exactly what he needed to hear. He nodded, a small, grateful smile brightening his face, before he finally closed that small space.

The kiss was soft but impassioned, a slow burn that began as a flicker and grew to a flame. Together, they spoke volumes without saying a single word. And when they separated, foreheads resting together and breathing labored, the fire in them just beginning to reach its hottest point, it was Killian who broke the heavy silence first.

"Not that I mind…in fact, it's quite the opposite…but why did you come here this morning?"

"I was coming to deputize you," Emma said, feeling her own cheeks burn as hot as Killian's had looked minutes before. "You spend enough time hanging around outside, so I thought I'd put you to work."

"If this is how you treat your employees, your father should probably resign," he quipped, bracing himself for the inevitable punch that Emma landed on a particularly rock-solid muscle in his stomach. Shaking out her now throbbing fingers, Emma reached into her pocket and produced the deputy's badge she'd brought, taking more time than was necessary to secure it to his belt.

"So, first stop, The Rabbit Hole?" she asked, gesturing to the open door that Killian stepped over to push closed.

"Actually, Sheriff, I don't think my attire is appropriate for law enforcement. Perhaps we should start again?" he teased with a grin as Emma felt a smile forming on her own lips.

"I think…" she paused, freeing her hair from the clip she'd pulled it into and allowing her curls to fall out over her shoulders. "…maybe it's your turn."


End file.
